Harsh Education
by whatever06
Summary: The B.A.U. is in search of a serial killer who preys on teachers. Now Complete.
1. Chapter 1

Ann-Elise Miller was tired of worrying and tired of cleaning. She grabbed the phone and hit the redial button. She waited; listening to the phone ringing for over a minute, hoping against hope her best friend would answer the phone this time. Impatiently she ended the call, found and called a second number. After three rings the answering machine picked up.

"Wait for the beep. You know what to do." Karen's voice but not Karen. Ann-Elise waited for the beep.

"Karen, where are you? I'm getting worried. I haven't heard from you yet. I know I've already left like ten messages but I'm just getting really concerned. Call me as soon as you get this. I want to know that everything in alright. . . . that _you_ are alright." She ended the call and went back to cleaning. She might not know what was going on with her best friend but at least the house was going to look great.

**The next morning**

Dr. Spencer Reid was in one of his least favorite places – a school building. He had arrived at Greyshell Middle School with Special Agent Aaron Hotchner. After quick introductions with the school's principal, Hotchner went to look in the missing teacher's classroom, Reid went to question her best friend.

He was happy to see that Ms. Miller's classroom was more vibrant than most. Theatre had not been offered at his middle school and this classroom looked like no classroom he had ever been in. Large tables filled half of the room. The other half was taken up with a portable stage and miscellaneous set pieces. Costumes were displayed on body forms. Show posters covered one wall.

Reid had just introduced himself to Ann-Elise Miller and was now sitting at one of the tables. She had not sat down. Too nervous, she flitted about the room organizing papers, stacking and restacking books and throwing away trash left around the tables.

"F.B.I.? My friend has only been missing for one day." Reid could see panic in her eyes – he hated to see that look but in his line of work, he saw it all too often. He decided side-stepping the issue was going to be the best course of action. The less she knew, until it was confirmed, the better.

"Ms. Miller, when was the last time you saw your friend?"

"Friday, at the end of the school day. She was a little frazzled. Normally she didn't let things get to her. We made plans to get together Sunday, hang out, and watch a movie, anything to not think about . . . school."

"Did she miss commitments often?"

"No, never. That's what has me so worried. I could understand if something had come up yesterday, she normally would just call and cancel. But missing school – that is not like her. She is unstoppable when it comes to teaching. She has been a finalist for Teacher of the Year for the last three years. She's turned down the nomination every year – she doesn't care about the accolades"

"I noticed," Reid pointed to a framed certificate near the classroom's entrance, "that you are this year's Teacher of the Year."

Ann-Elise gave a little laugh. "She's a better person than me." Finally she sat down opposite the young F.B.I. profiler. "You know she was the one who nominated _me_." She looked down, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I am very worried about her. When she didn't come to school today, I begged the principal to call the police. And they sent you."

"You did the right thing." Reid opened his notebook, ready to jot down any information.

"Had she mentioned any problems? An ex-boyfriend? Unhappy parents or students? Family issues?"

"She thought someone was watching her, following her." She looked directly at Reid, to see if he would react. When his expression did not change, she continued. "She had no proof, no evidence, just feelings."

"What kind of feelings?"

"She just kept feeling like she was being watched. She never saw anyone. She also thought someone had been inside her house but nothing was missing, nothing had been taken. She had placed tape on certain doorways -- to see if someone had been getting in while she was at school."

"Did she say what happened when she checked the tape?"

"No. She had only set the tape Friday. She was going to tell me the results of her experiment on Sunday. That's what she called it – her experiment. She wasn't even sure ifit was real or not. Half the time she was terrified to be alone and the other half she thought she was just being silly or paranoid. Maybe she had watched too many scary movies. I never thought she was crazy or paranoid but . . . . I don't think I . . . . I didn't doenough to convince her to . . .to deal with this situation. Maybe if I had told her to call the police . . . ."

"Ms Miller, first of all, don't blame yourself. You are helping her now by talking to me. This is only a preliminary investigation. If I need to contact you again, how could I reach you?"

"I'll get you a business card." Ann-Elise walked into her office and pulled a card from the open desk drawer. She held the card out. "Thank you Agent Reid."

Reid took the card and put it in his shirt pocket. He gave a small smile and turned to leave.

"Do you think she is still alive?" Reid stopped but didn't turn back around. "I know she is still alive. She's a fighter. She's strong." Reid could hear her voice begin to shake as she continued. "I know that, if she could, she would fight, she would struggle to survive."

Reid didn't know what to say. If he's suspicions were true he had nothing to say to comfort this young teacher. He continued to walk out the room.Reid was sure he heard her sobbing as he quietly closed the door.

Hotchner was in the hallway waiting for Reid. Reid answered before Hotch even asked.

"Karen Wilson thought someone was watching her and she suspected someone had been in her house last week."

Hotchner shook his head. "I found a single, red rose on her desk. Looks like it had been there all weekend. I think we have victim number eight."

They started walking back to the main office of the school. The principal, Mrs. Lorenzo, was waiting for them.

"Gentlemen, is there anything else we can do to help you with your investigation?"

"Mrs. Lorenzo, did Ms. Wilson ever mention feeling uncomfortable with any of the staff members at the school? Or maybe with a parent or a student making threats?"

"No, she loves working here. She's loved by everyone here. This whole situation just seems so unreal. I can only imagine how upset Ann-Elise must be right now. The two of them are almost inseparable." Mrs. Lorenzo paused, looked around to be sure no one else was near them. "There was a concern at the beginning of the year – could this be a part of that?"

"It is too early to tell. We will need to come back, interview other teachers. Will that be alright?"

"No problem. Please come back as soon as you can."

**90 minuteslater**

Back at the offices of the B.A.U., Hotchner passed out file folders to the other agents sitting around a table in a small conference room.

"We have seven previous victims, the first disappearing just over six years ago. All were female teachers, all worked in public school systems within a 70 mile radius. All disappeared from home. So far only5 bodies have been recovered and two of those were found over twelve months after their disappearances and only skeletal remains were found. One was found in her house, she was never actually taken. Strangulation is the cause of death listed for three of the five found victims."

"What was the cause of death in the other two cases?"

"Blunt-force trauma for the victim found at home and unknow for the other."

Special Agent Jennifer Jareau took over. "We've tried to keep the serial nature of these disappearances and killings out of the media. One piece of evidence has never been released to the public -- a single, red rose is left at the school in the days leading up to the disappearance."

"We now believe Karen Wilson is victim number eight." Hotchner placed a picture of Karen on the board behind him. "This is the earliest we have gotten involved with this unsub. We are potentially two days behind him. We need to take full advantage of this."

Special Agent Jason Gideon stood up. "We have evidence that two of the victims were kept alive for weeks after being taken. The sooner we get this profile worked up, the better Karen Wilson's chances are of being found and found alive."

"Hotch, I want to talk to Ms. Miller again."

"That is fine Reid. Also, interview anyone else at the school. J.J., I want you to take the family and friends of the previous three victims. Morgan and Elle, you take the other cases. Maybe something was missed the first time around. Garcia will come up with a new geographical profile."

"At least we can stay home for this one."

"Morgan, I'm sure those teachers thought staying at home would be a good idea too." Hotch glared at Morgan for a full ten seconds and then left the room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Residence of Ann-Elise Miller**

Dr. Spencer Reid rang Ann-Elise Miller's door bell and waited for her to answer the door. She opened the door, giving the young F.B.I. agent a cautious smile.

"I was glad you called." She stepped aside to let him enter the house. After locking the door, she led him into the kitchen and motioned for him to have a seat at the breakfast table. "I have some questions for you. I've done a little research of my own– my principal sent me home today after you left. I know she meant well but I really needed to just stay busy today."

Reid noticed a half an inch worth of paper stacked on the table, most were copied articles from on-line newspapers.He glanced through the papers. She _had_ stayed busy that day. He was quite impressed; at least she wouldn't be totally shocked by what he had to say – the articles she had found were related to four of the previous cases.

"Would you like something to eat? I haven't had supper yet."

"No, I'm fine. Thank you." Reid retrieved his notebook from his leather messenger bag as Ann-Elise quickly gathered the ingredients for a salad. He was busy getting ready to ask her questions when she began the questioning herself.

"How old are you?"

Reid froze. Ann-Elise laughed.

"I'm sorry. Blame it on hanging around middle schoolers all day. I have no . . . tact, no manners but . . . . I have to ask. I bet I'm older than you."

"Twenty-four."

"Not by much," Ann-Elise said under her breath. "Well, you aren't the average F.B.I. agent, are you?"

"I've been told that almost everyday since I started working at the B.A.U." Reid opened his notebook and got his pen ready. "Do you mind if I ask _you_ some more questions. I promise, I won't ask your age."

"An agent with a sense of humor." Salad ready, she sat down opposite him at the table. "Ask away, sir."

"Was Karen seeing anyone?" Ann-Elise almost winced to hear her friend's name. Reid made a note to use the name as little as possible.

"No, she was engaged, at one point. Her fiancé was killed in a car accident just over a year and a half ago. She's not ready to be 'seeing anyone' yet."

"Has anyone shown an interest in her?"

"Have you seen her picture? Guys were always interested in her. People say we look alike but she was the prettier of the two of us. But, I can't think of anyone who was acting _obsessed_ with her."

"Anyone seem upset about her not reciprocating his feelings?"

"Karen had tact – more than that, she had a way with people. I've seen her turn a guy down flat and he almost didn't notice. She was amaz. . . . ." Reid looked up from his notes to see a very still, pale young woman sitting across from him.

"Ms. Miller? Uh, Ann-Elise, are you okay?"

"**Is**. I meant to say she _is_ amazing."

Reid decided to go with the diversionary tactic again.

"Ms. Miller, who would normally have access to a school? To the teachers?"

The tactic seemed to work again.

"Well, you have teachers, administrators, students, substitutes, custodians, county maintenance workers. Do you want me to keep going?"

"What about access to multiple schools?"

"Parents, substitutes, and maintenance workers mostly. I know our county's maintenance workers are on a rotating schedule. They come to Greyshell on Fridays."

"How often can teachers change schools?"

"Within the county you can put in for a transfer after being at the same school for three years. From outside the county it is just a matter of getting an interview and being hired."

"So, a teacher would have to wait three years to move from one school to the next?"

"Yes, within the county. Unless they were displaced. . . . moved against their will – although the county calls that an 'involuntary move'. Sounds better than against your will, I guess."

**Next morning, offices of the B.A.U.**

Everyone was again in the conference room. Special Agent Elle Greenaway was the first to update the other agents.

"There was one arrest – back in February 2005, about the time the case was brought to the B.A.U. Steven Elijay was the former boyfriend of victim number 4. He was a teller at the county's Credit Union and all of the previous victims had used the branch where he worked."

"Did he have any connections to any of the later victims?"

"No evidence was found. In fact he was in police custody the weekend victim number 5 disappeared."

"Great alibi – I was in jail."

"Morgan, what did you find?" Hotch was glaring at him from the door.

"There is a definite physical similarity with all the victims – brown hair, same eyes and shape of the face; they were all in their mid-twenties. This guy knows what he wants. And where to find it – the victims cover three counties and seven schools."

"Reid, were you able to learn anything else from Ms. Miller?"

"We may not be looking for a teacher. They have very little freedom to change from school to school within a county; and we are dealing with seven different schools. We might want to look into substitute teachers or other support staff. Also, maintenance workers."

"Well, it's a start. I'll get Garcia to gather employment records. Maybe a name will come up connected to multiple schools." Hotch walked out the door.

Morgan looked around. "Is it just me or . . ."

"Hotch does seem to be, well . . ." Reid suddenly thought to the previous evening, "picking up on your middle school behavior Morgan."

All eyes turned to Reid. Morgan broke thesilence with a hearty laugh. "Good one kid."


	3. Chapter 3

**Residence of Dr. Spencer Reid**

It had been six weeks since Spencer Reid had first interviewed Ann-Elise Miller and he could safely say he had made a new friend. Their phone conversations were still awkward at times, totally his fault, but what he lacked in small-talk skills, she more than made up for with her outgoing personality. In his own defense, Reid had to admit that their face to face meetings were quite enjoyable and relaxed.

In the past several weeks, Reid had learned three important facts about this young school teacher: 1) She was a consummate performer. The "Ms. Miller" that her students and professional colleges knew was an act – she was very different away from the classroom. 2) She was passionate about her job and "her kids" – as she called her students. Reid had seen this sacrificial nature in teachers before but not at this overzealous level. 3) She had most of the signs of being clinically depressed but she was hiding it well, from most people. Reid hadn't said anything to her, yet. He was waiting for the right time to bring it up.

It was early morning and Reid had just poured himself his first cup of coffee. He checked his watch and made a call on his cell phone.

"Good morning." Ann-Elise Miller answered with just a little too much enthusiasm for such an early hour of the morning.

"Morning. What are you doing?" She laughed. This had become their routine.

"I'm watching the sunrise. You should look out the window – it's incredible."

Reid checked his watch again.

"Shouldn't you be driving to school by now?"

"I am. I'm watching the sunrise **and** driving to school. I'm talented that way"

"Just be careful, please."

"I guess I shouldn't mention that I'm drinking my coffee too? I am using the hands-free-earpiece thingy with my cell phone."

The first awkward pause of the conversation began. Reid could kick himself – this is not that difficult. He was an F.B.I. agent. He had interviewed suspects and witnesses. He had been put in the position to talk to men with guns, several times while the guns were pointed right at him. Why couldn't he have a simple conversation with a friend on the phone?

"How are you this morning?" See, he thought to himself, that wasn't so bad.

"Good. I haven't dealt with any of my students yet." She laughed again, then her voice turned more serious. "It was easier to get up this morning." He heard her sigh over the phone. "I swear Spencer, if this had happened during the winter, I don't think I would have made it. There is something about the power of blue skies and pretty flowers."

"Actually, several studies have proven the healing power of. . ."

"Spencer, you are talking to a 'proven' study."

"You are right. Would you be interested in having a visitor this evening? As long as nothing happens and we don't get called out on a new case, of course."

"That would be great."

**Greyshell Middle School**

Ann-Elise finished the phone call with Spencer. It really was becoming a nice way to start the morning. After all, she was getting tired of being on this emotional rollercoaster without her best friend to lean on. Ironically, if her best friend was there with her right now then there wouldn't even be an emotional rollercoaster.

She pulled into the school's almost empty parking lot. She loved arriving at school early – she got so much done in the hour before most teachers even showed up for work. Ann-Elise grabbed her backpack, purse and lunch box and headed to the front door. She stopped by the main office to check her mail box and then walked down the three hallways to her classroom. As she made the final turn on the way to her classroom she saw one of the regular maintenance workers lugging a pack of yellow and blue air filters from her classroom.

"Wayne, you are here early."

"Morning Ms. Miller. Yeah, breaking in a new employee. You should see this kid – I don't think he knows the difference between an air filter and a condenser unit."

"Hang in there, Wayne. Have a good day."

"You too."

Ann-Elise opened her classroom door, walked in and got to work.

**The offices of the B.A.U.**

Special Agent Aaron Hotchner walked into Penelope Garcia's sanctuary of computers, file folder held out in front of him.

"Garcia, are you telling me that there is not a single male who has worked within these three counties?" He wanted to throw the file down on her counter but it wasn't Garcia's fault.

"Sorry boss. I've cross-referenced all three counties' payrolls. I guess there is the chance that he has more than one i.d. but that would be pretty advanced stuff – multiple names, addresses, socials. . . ."

"He has killed potentially eight women so far, he already has some advanced skills."

"Well, this morning I expanded the search to **all** employees and I did find one family that came up in all three counties. A husband and wife. Cheryl and Steven Butler." She handed him a new file folder. "He worked in the first county then transferred to Greyshell last year. The wife works in the second county involved."

Hotchner took the file folder, turned and walked out of the room. Two seconds later he returned.

"Good work Garcia."


	4. Chapter 4

**Greyshell Middle School**

The theatre classroom was in one of its rare moments of silence. Enjoying her planning period, Ann-Elise Miller sat in front of her computer putting in grades – the least favorite part of her job. When her cell phone rang, she happily left behind the grading program and retrieved her phone from her office. She looked at the screen for the caller-id information and smiled as she saw who it was.

"You know Spencer, you're not supposed to call me during the school day. I could be in the middle of teaching right now."

"I know for a fact that you are not with students right now." There was a teasing tone to Reid's voice – Ann-Elise almost laughed.

"What if we are on a different schedule today – my students could be staring at me in absolute disbelief that I am on the phone instead of teaching them." She started to walk back to her computer.

"I know I'm right. Look behind you." Ann-Elise turned around and saw Reid staring at her from the hallway. She ended the call and walked over to the door to let him in. Her smile vanished when she saw another agent with him.

"This isn't a friendly visit, is it? Something's happened."

"We are just looking into some new information. I'm Special Agent Derek Morgan. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too." She held out her hand. "Ann-Elise Miller."

"Ann-Elise? Is that French?"

"No, parental compromise." When Morgan looked confused, she continued. "He wanted Elise, she wanted Anna. Spencer, what new information? Can you tell me?"

Morgan walked away – to let them talk. He looked over the posters on the back wall, one caught his attention.

"Is that you? In this poster?"

"That's me. It's from the University Theatre. Karen was in that show too. I forced her to go to the auditions with me. She was quite good."

**Residence of Ann-Elise Miller**

It had been a nice evening. Reid had picked up Chinese take-out on his way over to her house. He had hoped that she might actually eat something if he brought one of her favorite meals. It hadn't worked. Although her plate looked picked over, he had noticed the small amount of food she had served herself to begin with.

"You know, you. . . ." Reid stopped, it wasn't the right time. He knew an argument would ensue -- him spatting out statistics of the dangers of not eating and her denying anything was wrong. "you can take the leftovers to school tomorrow for lunch."

"Great idea." She stood up and carried her plate into the kitchen. "I'm going to put everything away."

Reid brought his own now-empty plate into the kitchen.

"So, we've seen each other twice in one day. Here." He handed her his plate and sat down at the breakfast table, not sure how to best help with clean up.

"Speaking of you coming to my school today – since you brought it up – can you tell me about the new information?" Reid was impressed; she must have been dying to ask all day.

"Not much to talk about. Ann, we really are doing our best. I realize that . . ."

"Spencer, I know you are doing your best – and that was a plural "you" by the way – I'm not asking for the F.B.I. to justify their actions or lack of results. I just want . . . I don't know what I want. I don't mean to get angry at you. I'm not angry with you."

"I think I know what you want – you want your best friend back. I don't know if we can get her back or not. I'm sorry." They spent the next few minutes in silence – Ann-Elise cleaning up after dinner and Reid watching her.

"May I suggest a diversion?" Reid walked back into the living room and picked up some DVD cases up from the coffee table. "I strongly recommend the totally mindless comedy."

**1 a.m.**

A phone was ringing. Ann-Elise heard it but it wasn't her phone. It kept ringing. She sat up and opened her eyes. It took her a moment to figure out where she was – she had fallen asleep in the living room, on the couch. The ringing phone was on the coffee table – it was Spencer's, he must have left it. She was about to get up and answer the phone when she realized that Spencer had not left his phone, he hadn't left. He was currently curled up on the floor, wrapped up in a throw quilt off the couch.

"Spencer, your phone is ringing." The phone stopped ringing. Ann-Elise had to laugh at the timing. She crawled off the couch to get closer to him. "Spence, someone was trying to call you, wake up." He rolled over on his back, stretched out, to look at her.

"Who was it?"

"Don't know, I didn't . . . ." The phone started to ring again. She grabbed the phone and handed it to him. "Guess you're about to find out."

"Reid." Ann-Elise waited as Spencer's side of the conversation consisted of less-than-revealing yes's and no's. He ended the conversation with an "I'll be there in thirty minutes." He got up and started to find his shoes.

"I have to go. I'm needed at the office."

"At this hour? Won't they realize you're still wearing yesterday's clothes."

"Probably not. Sorry I kept you up so late on a school night."

"Considering we fell asleep while watching a movie – technically you didn't keep me up. I'll walk you to the door." Without turning on any lights, she walked him to the door, told him to drive safe and watched him drive off. Ann-Elise double locked the door, went upstairs and back to sleep, this time in her bed.

**Offices of the B.A.U.**

Reid walked towards his desk and suddenly realized that he hoped no one would notice that he was wearing yesterday's clothes.

"Where were you? You didn't answer your phone at home."

"I wasn't home. I was . . . with a friend."

"Ann-Elise? Way to go kid."

"Morgan, it wasn't like that. We're friends."

"Let's get started." Hotchner called from the conference room door. Once everyone was settled he began the briefing.

"A body was found yesterday afternoon. The coroner just confirmed it is victim number six."

"She was taken in April of 2005. Why did it take so long to find the body? Where was the dump site."

"A construction site – new strip mall. The site is less than three miles from the victim's school. Up until two days ago, it was a wooded area behind a grocery store. Although the site has been compromised, I still think it is worth taking a look at it."

**Residence of Ann-Elise Miller**

The 5:30 alarm came too soon. After hitting the snooze button twice, Ann-Elise could no longer postpone the inevitable – she had to get up. At least it was Friday. She begrudgingly got out of bed, cleaned up and got dressed. Shoes in hand, she walked down the stairs and turned on the dining room lights and froze, too shocked to move.

**Offices of the B.A.U.**

The team returned from a fruitless search of the dump site. The construction had cleared two acres of trees and brush – the landscape completely different from what it must have looked like when the unsub had left the body almost a year before.

Spencer Reid immediately headed to the coffee machine. He poured himself a cup, added a great deal of sugar and went back to his desk. His phone rang and he quickly answered it when he saw that it was Ann-Elise. As he answered the phone, Elle walked past him, towards her desk.

"Reid. . . . . Ann, Ann-Elise slow down . . . No, I didn't . . ." Elle, sensing something was seriously wrong, moved toward the stairs.

"Hotch. Something's happening."

"Where are you right now? . . . Good, you did the right thing. Listen, I want you to drive here, right now . . . I'll stay on the phone with you the entire way."

Hotchner ran down the stairs. Reid moved the phone away from his mouth.

"Ann-Elise found a red rose on her dining room table when she woke up this morning. She's on her way here."

"Stay on the phone with her Reid. Elle, contact the local P.D. and get her a police escort and let's get someone over to her place right now. Reid, how is she doing?"

"She sounds angry." He turned his attention back to the phone. "Yes, I'm talking about you. . . . make that _very_ angry."

Hotchner almost smiled. "Good."


	5. Chapter 5

**Offices of the B.A.U.**

Ann-Elise arrived safely. Reid met her outside and then escorted her through security and to the offices of the B.A.U. Morgan had been sent to her house and his initial investigation had been less than helpful. Hotchner had accepted his called-in report with less than his usual enthusiasm. At this point, they needed evidence of any kind.

Hotchner looked into the small conference room where Reid was waiting with Ann-Elise. Despite her professional attire, she looked like a teenager – or maybe it was just seeing her with Reid. He hated to do it but he wanted to talk to Ann-Elise alone and plans had already been made to get Reid out of the room. Hotchner knocked on the door frame before he entered.

"Ms. Miller, I'm Agent Hotchner, we met a few weeks ago at your school."

"Hi, I remember." Ann-Elise stood up and shook his hand.

"I have a few questions for you. I realize that it has been a bad morning."

"Please, ask away. I want this to . . . be over. Thank you for . . ."

Gideon walked to the door, taking focus immediately.

"Sorry to interrupt. Reid, can I see you." Reid looked torn. He looked from Hotchner, to Ann-Elise and to Gideon.

"Reid, go ahead. I can handle this."

"I'm ok, Spence. Do your job."

Reid left with Gideon.

"How are you holding up, Ms. Miller? I can only imagine how difficult this must be for you."

"I was doing better before this morning and I wasn't doing that well then. This guy has probably destroyed my best friend and now he's after me. I think . . . furious would be the word right now that comes to mind. Is that shallow of me?"

"It is completely understandable. I think, though, that you can find positive ways to use your anger."

Ann-Elise held up her right hand, showing Hotchner a bruise on a couple of knuckles.

"I back-handed a wall yesterday – probably not the most positive use of my anger."

"Probably not."

"My only solace is that no students saw my tantrum. My penance is that it hurts like heck every time I write."

"Let's talk about this morning. I know it may seem obvious but are you sure you locked all doors and windows. There was no sign of forced entry."

"I always lock the doors. In the past few weeks I've become quite obsessed about it. I even bolted the door after . . . . I went to bed." Hotchner caught the pause and had a feeling he would need to look into the reason.

"Can the bolt be opened from the outside?"

"No, it's just a sliding bolt lock that I installed myself when Karen first went missing. It can only be accessed from inside the house."

"What about the back door?"

"It's a sliding glass door and I have a security bar across it. I was told the glass would have to be broken to get in through the door when the bar was in place."

"Do you keep a spare key outside?"

"Not outside. I have two spares: my Dad has one and Karen. . . had the other." Hotchner could actually see the color drain from her face. "Oh God, I didn't even think . . . I was so worried about her. I must seem very stupid right now."

"I'll help you get someone to change your locks today."

"Thank you."

**Office of Agent Gideon **

Gideon and Reid had been waiting for almost fifteen minutes for Hotchner to finish talking to Ann-Elise. Reid, who had his back to the door, almost jumped out of his chair when Hotchner walked in.

"She wants to go to work today. She's definitely more angry than scared."

"Actually, most teachers have some self-sacrificing tendencies. During the 1998 shooting at a middle school in Arkansas, a teacher saved the lives of some of her students by shielding them with her own body."

"Reid, is this really the statistic you want to use while convincing me to let her go to school today?" Reid just looked down at his shoes.

Morgan knocked on the door.

"Elle just called from the school – there was no rose left in her classroom." He held up an evidence bag with a red rose inside it. "Look at this. It's not like the others. The stem is broken and it looked like it had been thrown down on the table. The others were perfect: no broken stems, petals intact and placed carefully on the desk."

"The unsub has gone off script. Why?"

"It's my fault." Everyone looked at Reid. "He's seen her with me. That's why he's escalated like this. Previously there were at least five months between victims, twelve months between the initial four victims. I've put her in danger."

"Reid, I think you may have saved her life." Reid looked directly at Hotchner. He had hoped to ask this privately but he needed to know now. "You were at her house last night, weren't you?" Reid nodded. "I don't mean to get too personal but how late were you there? Where were you in the house?" Hotchner stopped there. He didn't want to ask what he had been doing.

"I went over after work. We had dinner. We watched a movie. We both fell asleep in the living room. I was on the floor, she was on the couch. I left when Morgan called this morning."

"All of the previous victims were alone when they were taken. Even the victims who were married were alone when they were taken. Sandra Dean's husband was out of town when she was killed at home. Lisa Robertson's husband worked third shift. I believe that late last night or early this morning the unsub came in while you were there. He didn't take her because she wasn't alone. I think you saved her life."

"Alright, but that still doesn't tell us why he left the rose at her house instead of at school."

"We are confident that he keeps his victims alive for awhile. Something happened in April – that is when he first took his first four victims. We also are confident that since he started escalating, the new victims are replacements when he gets rid of the previous victim. If the pattern is being followed then we have to believe that Karen Wilson is dead."

"Hotch, I don't want Ann-Elise to know that. Not yet. She's barely getting by on hope and if we take that away from her – she's already depressed, she barely eats anymore and work has become her sole reason for existence. She can't go home right now. Maybe you should let her go to school."

"We can wait on telling her about our theory. If, and right now it is a _big if_, I let her go to school, we have to keep a very close eye on her. If the unsub decides to try again, it will be today."

"Why today?"

Gideon answered. "It's Friday. He always takes his victims on Fridays."

"Hotch, I want to volunteer to stay with her today. I won't let her out of my sight."

Hotchner thought it over. He had been hard on Morgan over this case and it was probably more over his own shortcomings than Morgan's.

"Fine." Hotchner looked at Reid, speaking before the young genius could even open his mouth. "You and I will stay outside the school. Gideon, we have missed something – I don't know how or where but we've missed something and it has become a costly mistake. Go over everything again. Get Garcia to check the employment files one more time. We can't make another mistake."


	6. Chapter 6

**First of all, thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read my story and especially to everyone who has reviewed it. I've been thrilled to get so much positive feedback. Enjoy Chapter 6.**

**On a funny note, I am watching tonight's episode (3/22) as I type this in and I hear the quote I had chosen for Reid in my last chapter used by Gideon at the beginning of the show. Guess I'm going back to the quote site to find a new quote!**

**Greyshell Middle School**

Mrs. Lorenzo had not been entirely thrilled about her staff and students potentially being in danger. Nevertheless, she did agree to allow Ms. Miller tobe at school that day– with the offered security measures of Agent Morgan staying in her room and additional agents being outside the school building. Hotchner admired the principal's fiercely protective nature – he felt the same about his team.

The day had gone by uneventfully. Hotchner was amazed by the constant flow of traffic in and out of the school: students arriving late or being checked out early. He and Reid had spent the day in the front parking lot --with an hourly walking tour of the campus breaking up the monotony. The conversation between the two agents had been casual and varied throughout the day. He realized that one subject had not come up and now that the school day was coming to a close, he decided that they had avoided the topic long enough.

"Reid, how is your relationship with Ms. Miller?"

"Have you been talking to Morgan?" Reid had answered a little too quickly – this subject may be more sensitive than first I realized, thought Hotchner.

"No, I haven't. I thought I would ask you directly."

"We're friends, that's all."

"Could it become more?"

"Hotch, she knows how to use power tools, she talks in front of groups of people everyday, for a living, and she knows how to sword fight . . . she's . . . I am not her type." Reid suddenly found the parking lot extremely fascinating and looked out the window intensely. Hotchner wanted to laugh but he thought Reid might not take it the right way.

"Being perfectly alike doesn't equal compatibility. Being different can be a great quality in a relationship." He was very aware of the lack of significant others when it came to his team members. "Don't set yourself up to always be alone." Reid continued to look out the window. Not wanting to push too hard, Hotchner decided it would be a good time to walk the campus.

**Theatre Room**

Morgan had enjoyed his day in school. He had watched Ms. Miller's classes from the back corner of the room – her students were simply told that he was there to observe her. He had been very impressed with her ability to show no signs to her students of the situation with which she was dealing .

It was five minutes until the last class of the day was to begin. Away from her students, Ann-Elise was looking tired. The feeling of anger had begun to dissipate and fear had taken its place. She walked to the back of the room and pulled a chair up in front of Morgan.

"One more to go. I'm not sure how much more of this I can take."

"You are doing great. I hope your students realize how lucky they are to be in your class."

"I doubt it but thank you." Too restless to sit down for long, she stood up and walked toward the window, looking out at the front parking lot. "This is so harsh! I've planned for everything as a teacher: lesson plans, rules, consequences, encouraging speeches. . . I've always been prepared to do anything for my students, to . . . . protect them – from ignorance, abuse, poverty, students with guns. . . Do you know the date I interviewed for this job? April 20th."

"The anniversary of the Columbine shooting."

"Mrs. Lorenzo brought it up – what had happened in Colorado. She asked me if I really wanted to be a teacher, knowing the 'current state of the world' and do you know what I said?"

"Obviously you said 'yes.'"

"I said 'yes.' I never thought that I would be the one who needed to be protected." She walked back to the chair and sat down again, looking directly into Morgan's eyes. "Do you think I was crazy to say 'yes'?"

"No. I've watched you all day. You are doing what you are meant to do. Don't you ever forget that." He gave herhis best smile."Besides, I would have loved to have taken your class when I was this age." The bell rang to mark the beginning of class.

"You, as a middle schooler_, that_ I can imagine." She got up and started to walk towards her desk. "You wouldn't have survived my class for a moment, Agent Morgan."

"Aren't you supposed to save your flirting for Reid, Ms. Miller?"

"Oh no, I don't flirt with Spencer. I think it makes him too uncomfortable. Poor thing . . . he's been a god-sent these past weeks. I don't know how I would have survived this without him."

"He's a good kid."

**Parking lot of Greyshell MS**

Hotchner returned to the car. Reid was staring at a white van parked across from them.

"That van pulled in a few minutes ago." Hotchner looked at the van – all of the maintenance workers had been triple checked by Garcia. He sat down and found himself staring at the van. He wasn't sure what it was but something about the van felt wrong. Then he saw it. He grabbed his cell phone.

**Offices of the B.A.U.**

Penelope Garcia had lost count of the times she had checked the databases. She was pretty sure she now had the names of every maintenance worker is the three counties memorized. Her phone rang and she answered it with her typical flair for the dramatic.

"Information central – how can I help save lives today?"

"Garcia, get me everything you can on Tri-County A/C." Hotchner could hear the tapping of the keyboard over the phone.

"Alright, as the name implies, they serve multiply counties –and they are under contract with all three school systems."

"Why didn't we find this before, Garcia?"

"We were focusing on individual employees, boss, not companies. The school systems pay Tri-County and they, in turn, pay their individual employees. Give me a few minutes and I will have their payroll info."

"I need the names of all employees who have been with the company for at least six years and who have worked at the schools involved." He turned to Reid. "Come on, we're going in."

Garcia was rolling from one computer screen to another and Elle was just feet away on the phone.

"Good for us, but this company must have some major problems, very high turn-over rate. Alright, we have three employees who have been with the company for over six years and who have worked in all of the schools involved. But looking at more personal data I think we havea front-runner. This guy changed to his current route two months before the first killing in county number three. Oh, he inherited his parent's house when his mother died, March 2000. That's one month before the first victim was taken . . . hold on a second" Hotchner could hear Garcia talking to someone else in the room.

**Main Office**

Hotchner and Reid were standing in the office of the school – waiting for the principal to arrive and for Garcia to finish getting them the information they needed.

"Come on Garcia. What else do you have?"

"You are going to love this – guess who called in sick this morning?"

"Garcia, give me a name and address, please" Hotchner motioned for Reid to get ready to write down the information.

"His name is Wayne Murphy and he lives at 1728 . . ."

"Wayne Murphy." Hotchner repeated to Reid. "1728 . . ." The receptionist looked up.

"Are you looking for Wayne? He came in about five minutes ago."

"Garcia, get Gideon over to his residence now." Hotchner hung up the phone and turned to the receptionist."We need to see Mrs. Lorenzo right now. Reid, stay here and wait for the principal; I'm going to check on Ms. Miller."

Reid was concerned. Not only was unsub in the building and Ann-Elise in serious danger but he had never seen Hotchner look this panicked before.


	7. Chapter 7

**Theatre Room**

Ann-Elise's last class of the day was in full swing. Morgan could see that she was back in teacher-mode – the fear and worry from earlier hidden away from her students' view. They were busy working in small groups at the various tables around the room. While walking around, monitoring their progress, Ann-Elise heard a knock at the door. She made her way to the front of the room. She laughed as she saw a student looking in the window.

"Eli's locked himself out." Morgan started to get up and she motioned for him to sit back down. "I'll let him in."

Ann-Elise walked to the door, unlocked it and started back to her students. She glanced over her shoulder, intending to tell Eli to lock the door behind him but Eli wasn't there. Instead she saw Wayne Murphy locking the door.

"Wayne, did you . . . ." Without warning, Wayne punched her in the face. Ann-Elise stumbled back. She caught herself on the wall and was trying to stand up when he grabbed her by the face and threw her violently back against the wall. She was vaguely aware of her students' screams as she succumb to the darkness.

Derek Morgan had his gun out and aimed it at Wayne Morgan.

"F.B.I. Show me your hands and step away from her." Wayne turned to look at Morgan, a knife held in his right hand. He quickly grabbed Ann-Elise's shoulder and pulled her up enough that he could hold the knife's tip at her throat.

"I don't like you pointing that gun at me. She's not perfect anymore – I'll kill her if you don't put the gun down."

"Put the knife away. We can talk about this." Wayne pushed the tip harder against Ann-Elise's throat. Morgan could see a drop of blood course down her neck. Reluctantly, Morgan placed his gun down on the floor. "Alright, see, I'm putting my gun down. Let up on the knife."

**Hallway in Greyshell Middle School**

Hotchner ran down the corridor, as he turned the corner he ran, literally, into a terrified student.

"He hit her. The guy pushed me out of the way and he hit Ms. Miller." The boy looked like he was about to hyperventilate. Hotchner spoke calmly, putting his hands on the boy's shoulders.

"It's alright. I'm with the F.B.I. I need you to come with me and tell me everything you saw." Furious that he was too late, Hotchner escorted the student back to the front office as he thought through his next move.

**Theatre Room**

Ann-Elise felt like her head had exploded. She slowly opened her eyes to see a blurry and sideways view of her classroom. It took a few seconds to realize that she was lying on the floor. Why – she couldn't remember. Across the room she could see her students huddling against the back wall. A pair of black work-boots stepped in her line of vision. Despite the pain, she looked up. Standing over her was an extremely furious-looking maintenance worker.

"Wayne?" He crouched down next to her.

"How could you? You are supposed to be an example – for your students." He grabbed her arm, pulled her roughly to her feet and then threw her onto the nearest table. "You were supposed to be a role model – you were supposed to the perfect gift."

"Wayne, I'm . . . I'm sorry. . . ."

"You were with him – you're not married. What kind of example are you?"

"You're right. . . I shouldn't have . . . . ." Not sure what she was supposed to have done, Ann-Elise stopped short of a confession. She desperately wanted to know what he thought she had done – just keep thinking, she thought to herself.

"An apology is worthless, just like you." He leaned in, his face inches away from her own. Ann-Elise wanted to back away but moving hurt too much and she had no where to go. "Leslie deserves the perfect gift, you were that perfect gift and then you had to ruin it, ruin yourself! Who is he? I found you – I brought you a rose, you were to come home to Leslie. Who was he?"

The intercom crackled and three beeps were heard. Two seconds later the beeps were repeated. From the back of the room, there was chattering from the students.

"What was that? What does that mean?"

"It's the lockdown code. They've locked down the school. We've . . . we're supposed to lock the door"

"The door's already locked." Wayne started pacing. Ann-Elise turned her head and looked back at her students – they looked terrified. She had to keep them safe. She had to get this guy out of her room.

"Wayne, my students – we don't need to get them involved in this." He kept pacing. As crazy as it seemed, Ann-Elise thought what Spencer would do. He had told her about some of the situations he had been in. Then it hit her, Spencer was the "he" Wayne was screaming about. Wayne had been in her house before Spencer left.

"Wayne, the school is locked down. The halls will be empty. You and I . . . we could just sneak out. I promise, I'll be good. The guy, he is just a friend. I swear, nothing happened that night" He stared at her, thinking. He walked back over to her.

"Leslie only asked for one thing. I don't want to disappoint her." He shook his head, looking at her. "She deserves better, better than your friendship."

"I can be better."

"You won't see him again?"

"I promise, I won't see him again – ever. I don't want to be a disappointment to you or to . . Leslie." He walked over to the table.

"You look like her. I don't want to disappoint her – she hasn't asked for anything else. We better go. We don't want to be late."

He grabbed her arm and helped her up more gently this time. As she stood up, Ann-Elise noticed for the first time the unconscious form of Agent Morgan on the floor. He was breathing – he was alive. Wayne pulled her towards the door.

"Wayne, I need to leave a student in charge. Can I talk to one of the kids, please?"

"Yeah." He looked over at the students. "Red t-shirt, stand up." Looking like he was about to pass out, the student stood up. "You can talk to him."

"James, no one leaves the room. No one. You're in charge, alright." James nodded. "Thank you."

Wayne escorted her out of the room and into the hall.

**Main Office**

As soon as Agent Hotchner arrived back at the main office he demanded the school be locked down. Even if he called for back-up, he was on his own for awhile . . . unless he took Reid with him. Not wanting to do it, he called Reid over.

"Reid, I want you to stay right behind me. You are personally involved in this case too much already. Stay calm and do what I say." Reid he accepted the orders -- didn't even attempt to argue. Together they started to walk towards the Theatre Room.

**Hallway**

Hotchner stopped before taking the last corner. He peeked around and saw Wayne walking towards him with Ann-Elise. Wayne saw him. Hotchner motioned for Reid to stay hidden and stepped out into the hallway. He placed his finger on the trigger of his gun, but kept his arm by his side.

Wayne immediately pulled Ann-Elise in front of himself, shifted his left arm around her throat in a choke-hold and turned the knife towards her chest. Hotchner was worried. Ann-Elise did not look good. Her lip was bleeding, her eyes looked glassy and she didn't seem to be reacting to her situation. He wouldn't be able to count on her helping him.

"Ann-Elise, are you alright?" She didn't answer. She just continued to stare straight ahead. "Wayne . . ."

"Go away! She's coming with me. She said that she would."

"Alright, then let's put the knife down."

"Ann-Elise?" Reid stepped around the corner. Hotchner didn't take his eyes off Wayne or his hostage.

"Reid, step back."

"You said you wouldn't see him again!" Wayne raise the knife in the air, Hotchner raised his gun. A second after Ann-Elise was stabbed in the stomach, Hotchner fired. Wayne, shot in the right shoulder, dropped Ann-Elise and stumbled back a few steps. Before Hotchner could tell him to stop, Reid ran forward.

"Don't move her Reid and don't touch the knife." Hotchner called for medical back-up and walked over the Wayne. Reid kneeled down next to Ann-Elise and carefully cradled her head in his hands. He leaned down and listened. She was breathing – her breaths were short and hollow sounding but she was breathing.

"Just hang on, Ann. Help's on its way, I promise."


	8. Chapter 8

Reid "Carl Jung once said, 'The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed.'"

**County Hospital**

Agent Elle Greenaway tried to close the door as quietly as possible. It was a challenge – she had a cup of coffee in each hand and a file folder under one arm. The hospital room she entered was dark; both occupants were asleep. Ann-Elise Miller was surrounded by tubes and wires. Elle had seen her the morning of the attack and had thought the young lady was extremely pale. Now, she looked deathly pale. Spencer Reid, head in hand, was sitting in a chair near the foot of the bed, his elbow resting at the edge of the mattress. Elle hated to wake him but he had asked to see the file as soon as possible. She put one cup of coffee on the bedside table, put the file folder on the bed and gently touched Reid's shoulder.

"Reid. Reid, wake up." He opened his eyes and looked up. "I have coffee." He took the cup from her hand and immediately took a sip. "The file is on the bed."

Reid thanked her, took another sip of coffee and opened the folder.

"C.S.U. found a body while they were searching the Murphy house."

"There was another victim? When was she taken?" He flipped through the pages even quicker.

"Fifteen years ago." Reid stopped looking through the file and looked up at Elle. "The body was found inside a trunk in the attic. Coroner identified the body yesterday – Leslie Adams. She was Wayne's fiancée. Seems his mother didn't approve of the match and when the bride-to-be disappeared weeks before the wedding everyone assumed she had been run off by her future-mother-in-law."

"Instead Wayne Murphy's mother had killed her?"

"Wayne found the body when he inherited the house after his mother's death."

"I guess that would be enough to send someone. . . ." Reid stopped – Ann-Elise moved slightly, turning her head from side to side and then settled again. He just stared at her.

"How is she doing?"

"Better. She's breathing on her own and she's out of the I.C.U. We're just waiting for her to wake up."

"I thought Hotch said that she woke up yesterday."

"Well, she opened her eyes and tried to talk but she really wasn't aware-awake. Not yet."

"How are _you_ doing?"

"Tired and . . . . feeling guilty for what happened. This is all my fault. Hotch told me to stay out of sight. If I hadn't of stepped into the hallway. . . ."

"Reid, you can't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault. Reid. . . . look." Elle pointed to Ann-Elise. Her eyes had opened and for a few seconds she stared straight ahead and then she looked around the room.

"Ann-Elise?" Slowly she turned her head towards Reid's voice. "Good morning." She gave him a weak smile. She looked around the room and then back to Reid. "You're in the hospital."

"Why?" Her voice barely a whisper. Reid wasn't sure what to tell her. After thinking it over for days he realized his explanation sounded too technical, too scientific. He lacked a definitive bedside manner.

Not getting an immediate answer, Ann-Elise tried to sit up but fell back to the pillow.

"No, you just need to be still right now."

"What happened?" She winced. "My throat hurts." She felt around her neck, found a small bandage but nothing else. "My necklace?"

"I have it right here. You had a breathing tube removed just yesterday, your throat will stop hurting soon." Reid reached in to his shirt pocket and pulled out a small plastic baggie. He opened it and carefully picked up a silver chain with a saint's medal and crucifix attached. He held up the medal. "Saint Genesius – Patron Saint of actors. From what I understand, you gave a performance that he would have approved of in your classroom. . . ."

"Reid, she's out again." He looked up. Ann-Elise's eyes were closed. Reid sighed.

"Just like yesterday."

"She's been through a great deal -- physically and mentally."

"I just want her to get better."

"She will. Go home, get some rest. You look exhausted."

"I don't want her to be alone. If she wakes up alone . . . . I need to be here for her."

"At least get some sleep. Go lay down, I think that love seat pulls out into a bed. I'll stay here until someone else can come in." Reluctantly Reid agreed.

The next time Ann-Elise woke up she knew where she was and she expected to see Spencer Reid sitting next to her bed. Instead she found Agent Hotchner.

"How are you feeling?" She took a few seconds before she answered.

"Like I'm floating."

"I'm almost positive there is morphine in one of those." He pointed toward one of the I.V.'s.

"How bad is it?"

"You'll live, if that is what you are asking." Hotchner gave her a rare smile. He took her hand and placed something inside it. "You are going to be just fine. Reid asked me to give this to you."

"Where is he?" He pointed to the other side of the room. Ann-Elise raised her head just enough to see Reid.

"It was a compromise – you weren't left alone and he got some sleep. I think this was one of the few times he has ever disobeyed a direct order. He's become quite. . . loyal to you."

"He's become important to me too." She looked at her necklace and rubbed the saint's medal. "Agent Hotchner, what happened to me? I can't . . . why don't I remember getting hurt?"

"What do you remember?"

"Being at school?" Hotchner nodded. Ann-Elise shook her head. "I don't remember anything else."

"The unsub got into the school and into your room."

"My room?" She tried to sit up and Hotchner stood up, ready to keep her from hurting herself. "My students? Please tell me they are alright."

"They are fine. Scared but completely unharmed." She relaxed and settled back on the bed. Hotchner sat back down and took her hand in his. "According to your students' if you ever leave the teaching-world, you should become a negotiator."

"My students used the word 'negotiator'?"

"You should be very proud of yourself. You kept your students safe. It could have become a much worse situation."

"What did happen?"

"Wayne Murphy entered your classroom. . . ."

"Wayne? It was . . . . I remember, he came in and punched me."

"You hit your head" Keep it simple, Hotchner thought. He spoke slowly, allowing her to take in each statement before moving on to the next. "You had quite a severe concussion. You convinced him to leave your students in the room and the two of you left your room. Before I could stop him he stabbed you. The knife lacerated your diaphragm and the doctors have, to help you get better, allowed you to sleep for awhile." He was amazed how well she was taking it all in -- probably the drugs.

"How long is 'awhile'?"

"Five days. It's Wednesday evening."

"Guess I needed a lot of sleep."

"You did. Again, you are going to be fine." She again stared at her medal. "Agent Hotchner, did you find Karen?" He gave her hand a small squeeze.

"Yes, we did. She's been waiting for you to wake up."

"She's alive?"

"She's alive. In fact, she's come through this whole experience in much better shape than you." Hotchner was pleased to see her smile.

**One more Chapter to come**


	9. Chapter 9

**County Hospital**

Agent Hotchner had promised to bring Karen to the hospital by 9 am Thursday morning. Ann-Elise was beginning to get restless as she waited. Reid had spent the night at the hospital and he was again sitting beside the bed.

"What time is it?" Reid looked at his watch, for the third time.

"Ten until nine. Knowing the time is not going to get her here faster."

"I know." Ann-Elise sighed. "Spence, I can hear your stomach growling. Why don't you go get something to eat? My breakfast is already here." She pointed to the I.V. "I'll be fine waiting alone for a few minutes." They both looked up as the door opened. It was Agent Hotchner.

"Are you up for a visitor?" Hotchner barely had time to open the door fully before Karen rushed into the room. She crossed to the bed and gave Ann-Elise a hug, being careful not to touch the I.V. and oxygen tubes.

"Are you alright?"

"I am now." Karen stood up and looked at her best friend like she hadn't seen her in years.

"You've lost weight."

"You disappeared."

"I'm sorry. It wasn't my choice." Hotchner cleared his throat.

"We'll let you two get caught up."

"Agent Hotchner, would you please take Spence to the cafeteria and make him eat something?" Hotchner nodded, grabbed Reid's arm and pulled him out the door before the young agent could argue.

Karen sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Doesn't seem real, does it?"

"No." Ann-Elise looked at her best friend trying to find the right words, and then decided there were no right words. "What happened to you? Where were you?"

"Wayne's house. The basement was set up like a mini-house. It was the craziest thing – he thought I was his fiancée. As long as I played along, he was nice to me."

"He didn't hurt you? Or try to . . . touch you?"

"No, he didn't even try. He kept making plans about our wedding. He even asked what I wanted as a wedding gift."

"Leslie?"

"That's what he called me. How did you . . . ."

"He said something about me being Leslie's gift."

"Oh Ann. . . he took you because . . . I didn't think . . ."

"What?" Karen stood up. Ann-Elise was afraid she was going to leave the room. "Karen?"

"He asked me what I wanted for a wedding gift. I told him I was lonely and I wanted my best friend to be there. He took you because I asked him to." Ann-Elise laughed and then immediately winced.

"Can't laugh – it hurts. Karen, you can't seriously blame yourself. He's insane, a psycho – this isn't your fault. Come back here please." Karen sat down in the chair next to the bed.

"I didn't think he would . . . . he hurt you."

"Wayne came to my house; one of the F.B.I. agents was there, with me. He thought we were . . . having a relationship. . . ."

"Were you?"

"Karen Wilson! You know that would take a vow in front of a priest and a ring on my finger first."

"Which agent?"

"Spencer Reid."

"The guy that was here? _Well_. . . ."

"Karen, don't you give me that look. I may be hurt, but I can still take you."

"I bet you could."

"Karen, what happened to Wayne? No one's told me."

"One of the agents shot him. He was in the hospital but now he's in jail."

"Do you know which agent shot him?"

"I don't."

"Spencer's avoided talking about what happened at the school."

Reid and Hotchner returned after an hour. Hotchner took Karen home and then went to the office. He gave Reid until that afternoon to report in to work. Despite their limited time to be together Spencer Reid and Ann-Elise Miller spent the next twenty minutes in a comfortable silence – both obviously in deep thought. Finally, Reid gently took her hand in his and cleared his throat.

"Ann, I need to tell you something." He waited for her to look at him before he continued. "I heard Hotch telling you what happened, when you . . . got hurt. He didn't tell you everything." Ann-Elise could see that whatever Reid was dealing with was quite painful and she wanted to interrupt him, tell him to stop, not to tell her whatever it was he had to say. She also had a feeling he **had** to tell her.

"You . . . getting hurt . . . was my fault. When Hotchner saw you, he told me to stay back, out of sight. I looked, you weren't struggling, you weren't fighting back. He was chocking you and you did nothing. It looked like you had given up." He stopped and looked at her, maybe wanting confirmation to his theory.

"I don't remember Spence. I don't know how I felt. It wouldn't surprise me that you're right. I don't want you to blame yourself. This isn't your fault."

"It is! I am so sorry. I stepped out, he saw me and that's when he stabbed you. I was what made him attack you. Hotch had been talking to him." Ann-Elise grabbed Reid's hand hard. He looked like he was about to cry and she didn't want that to happen.

"Spencer, listen. This is not your fault. I don't blame you and you shouldn't. . ." He wasn't listening, he kept blaming himself and apologizing. She needed to get his attention – she used her best teacher voice.

"Spencer Reid, listen to me." It worked – he looked at her, shocked. "You are the second person today to try and take blame for something that is not your fault. You didn't have that knife if your hand. You didn't decide to hurt me. It is not your fault." She took a deep breath and then continued. "I think I would have been more hurt, and I mean heart hurt, if you hadn't of tried to help me."

They again spent a minute in silence – neither sure what to say. Reid broke the silence.

"You're shaking. Are you alright?"

"I'm tired. I feel drugged."

"You are drugged." They both smiled. "I've upset you and you need to rest." Reid stood up and turned to leave.

"Stay. Please." He stopped and turned back to face her. "Will you stay until I fall asleep?"

Reid walked back and stood next to the bed. After a moment of indecision he leaned over, brushed her bangs back and kissed her on the forehead.

"I'll be here when you wake up." He sat down and took her hand in his. Ann-Elise closed her eyes and fell asleep.

**Reid**"Bono wrote, 'Sometimes you can't make it on your own.'"


End file.
